A Christmas Carol
by CSIMel
Summary: Based on the classic Christmas story by Charles Dickens. House is Scrooge, you get the picture. Oh, can't you feel the holiday spirit! No? Oh, Humbug! [Finally finished]
1. A Very UnMerry Christmas

_**Dr House was as dead as a doornail. This must be distinctly understood or nothing wonderful can come of this story I am going to relate.**_

**CSIMel Presents**

'**A Christmas Carol'**

**_Based on the novel by_ **

**Charles Dickens**

**_Featuring characters from the medical drama_**

**House M.D**

Dr Gregory House sat at his desk, feet on the table playing his game boy. It was Christmas Eve and for once, they didn't have anything to do. So House decided to spend the time amusing himself, while his young doctors did their paperwork. After bombing out on the 23rd level, House threw down his game boy and looked around the hospital in disgust, glaring at all the tinsel, holly and lights. It was no surprise to anyone who knew him or had come in contact with him that he hated Christmas. He especially hated…carollers. House's head snapped up as he heard the familiar, whiney strains of cheerful singing coming around the corner.

_We wish you a Merry Christmas;  
We wish you a Merry Christmas;  
We wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.  
Good tidings we bring to you and your kin;  
Good tidings for Christmas and a Happy New Year. _

"Hey! American Idol failures!" House yelled, "Cut the singing, some of us are trying to work!"

Dr Allison Cameron glanced up from her paperwork.

"They're only trying to spread some Christmas cheer," She asked, "Do you have to be so mean?"

"Hmm, let me think," House pretended to consider her comment, "Yes."

House noticed Dr Eric Foreman shivering.

"What, do you want to comment on my lack of Christmas cheer?" He demanded.

"Can you turn the heat up?" Foreman asked, hugging himself. "It's colder in here than out there."

"Oh, poor widdle Foreman is cold," House mocked, "you see this? This is a jacket. Do you see this? This is a sweater. They are called clothes. Normally, clothes are worn to keep warm." House shook his head. "Put a jacket on, Bozo, we're trying to conserve energy."

"Merry Christmas everyone!" House's rant was interrupted by Dr James Wilson.

"Dr Wilson, what is that on your head?" House asked.

"It's a Santa hat," Wilson said, "Merry Christmas, House."

"Merry? What the hell is 'merry' about it?" House snapped, "The only thing 'merry' about Christmas is knowing that the people stuck in this dump are going to be having a worse time than me. Have you people tried this hospital's pathetic excuse of turkey?"

"Come on, you can't honestly think that?" Wilson asked.

"Oh, but I do," House said, "It's all about commercialism, the big companies milking everything out of the little guy. Parents buying overpriced toys for spoilt children, which they will break a few hours after receiving them. The destruction of rain forests to make Christmas cards and paper, which will only get thrown away. I don't see what's so 'merry' about that."

"Christmas is about giving and spending time with family," Wilson spoke up.

"Oh, here we go again," House groaned.

"Christmastime is a good time, a kindlier, forgiving, charitable time when men and women see their one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely to their fellow creatures." Wilson stated.

"What's that, Dickens?" House questioned.

"Yes, but that's beside the point," Wilson sighed.

"You tell him, man," Foreman and Chase said together.

"One more word from you two and I'll shove Dr Cameron's candy canes down your throat." House growled. "Speaking of the candy canes, Cameron, nice touch. A great way to show Christmas spirit and spite at the same time!" House held up his cane.

"Why don't you have Christmas dinner with us?" Wilson offered, saving Cameron from embarrasment.

"Dinner with the Wilson clan, hmm, I think I have a prior engagement in hell." House snapped, throwing a candy cane at Wilson.

"Don't be like that!" Wilson sighed, frustrated, "Chase, Foreman, Cameron, you guys are coming?"

The three young doctors nodded.

"Why aren't you spending it with your families?" House demanded.

"The roads are blocked…" Foreman began.

"Like I really care," House snapped, losing interest.

"Cuddy is coming," Wilson said, smiling slyly.

"Oh, why didn't you say so?" House said sarcastically, "No!"

"Fine, be that way," Wilson replied, throwing his hand up in the air. "I shall keep my good humour and wish you a Merry Christmas."

"Idiot!" House exclaimed. "And he's made me late for my soap!" House glared at the young doctors, "I guess you three want tomorrow off."

All three nodded.

"The sick people won't heal themselves, but if you want to go to Wilson's dinner party, fine." House stood up. "That will be torture enough."

"Thanks, Dr House," Cameron spoke up, "and Merry Christmas!"

"Humbug! Bah!" House grumbled, leaving the room, "And all that crap."

**A/N: So what did you all think of that? My first House fic and I would appreciate the reviews. I know, a predictable story line, but a classic. So if you were clapping in approval, please express that clapping in writing by clicking the button,bottom left.**

**Reviews make the world go round! **


	2. Metal, Wooden and Candy Canes

**METAL, WOODEN AND CANDY CANES**

**A/N: Thanks for the great response to the first chapter. I've planned out the rest of the story, so my updates should be faster than usual. If House seems angrier, it's probably because I'm trying to show a transition within his state of mind. Or maybe because an angry House is a funny House. Enjoy.**

"Freakin' Christmas cheer," House grumbled to himself. "It's more contagious than the staph in this hospital."

House continued walking down the hall, muttering angrily.

"Merry Christmas, Dr House." A tiny voice spoke up.

House quickly spun around. The voice belonged to a small boy with on crutches.

"Scram, shortstop, the playroom is two floors down," House continued down the corridor."

The small boy followed him.

"I'm not sick," The boy replied.

House eyed his crutches.

"You sure fooled me." House snaps, quickening his pace.

"I'm Tim, Tim Foreman," The boy spoke up, managing to keep up with the surely doctor.

"Dr Foreman has a son, my this is fascinating, yet not surprising," House mumbled to himself.

"I'm waiting for my Uncle, he's a doctor." Tim said.

"So are half the people in this hospital, big whoop." House snapped, angry with himself for getting the relationship between Foreman and this annoying midget wrong. "Well, enjoy the long wait, kid,"

"Thank-you, sir," Tim answered.

"Humbug."

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House passed the nurses station, where they were playing loud, cheery Christmas music.

"Oh, for crying out loud!" House muttered, getting out his I-pod. He entered the boardroom.

"Ah, Dr House, we were afraid you weren't coming," One of the board members said.

"To a board meeting, why would I miss that?" House snarled.

"I said you'd be here," Another board member spoke up, "didn't I say Greg House would be here? I knew you'd change your mind."

"Hooray for you." House replied, bored.

"So you'll go to the medical conference in Florida?" Board member number one asked.

"I've changed my mind," House answered.

"Changed your mind? That's not possible!" A disgruntled board member cried.

"Actually, lads, thanks to a little thing called freewill, I have." House said. "If you want me to speak at a conference, them you must meet my conditions."

"Which are?" Board member number 2 asked.

"Hawaii, first class." House answered.

"What's wrong with Florida?" Another board member asked.

"Well, I was watching a documentary last night and Miami has a lot of murder and crime." House said, "I don't want to go away, fearing for my safety."

"Dr. House, CSI Miami is a crime show," Board member number 2 cried exasperatedly.

"Documentary, Crime Show. What's the difference these days?" House shrugged.

"Like it or not, House, but you're the best doctor in this hospital and you have to speak at a medical conference." Board member number 1 cried angrily.

"Gee, I guess that's something I have to live with." House replied sarcastically.

"How about we upgrade your room?" Board member number 2 negotiated.

"Hmm, sorry, no can do. And if you leave it longer, I might want attend that conference in London next year." House said.

"Damn it, House, that's not fair!" The board member cried, outraged.

"Life's not fair." House answered simply.

There were some murmurings amongst the board members.

"Fine, House, it's a deal." The board members gave in.

"Pleasure doing business with you, gentlemen." House said, leaving the room.

House was making his way towards the clinic when two men stopped him.

"Dr House?" One of them asked.

"What now?" House mumbled.

"Hello, you don't know us…" One of them said, but was interrupted.

"Nor do I intend to." House snapped.

"I'm Dr Poole and this is Dr Hacking." Dr Poole said politely.

"Great to meet you, but I'm late for my afternoon jog," House said, hobbling in the opposite direction.

"Very amusing." Dr Hacking stated, not impressed. "I'll get straight to the point. During the holiday season, our organization asks doctors in the local area to volunteer at the free clinic down town. We're always understaffed during the holidays, and as you're well aware of, this is the sick season."

"So you're asking me to give up my free time and my soaps to help others?" House asked, a blank expression on his face.

"There are many people in need of medicine who can't afford it," Dr Poole said, ignoring House's last comment. "What shift can we put you down for?"

"None," House answered simply.

"Excuse me?" Dr Hacking asked, stunned.

"You're excused." House replied.

"You mean you don't want to help out?" Dr Poole questioned.

"Now he's catching on." House said, nodding. "Listen, fellas, I don't enjoy working at the clinic here, what makes you think I'd give up my time to work at a different clinic. That's what taxes are for – free clinics and whatever."

"If we can't employ the help of qualified doctors, then the money from the government doesn't help. These are sick people, if they don't receive medical attention, they will die." Dr Poole said.

"Oh well, maybe it's their fate. On the plus side, it keeps the population under control." House stated, shrugging.

"You really don't believe that, do you?" Dr Hacking gasped.

"We're doctors, people die everyday. It's a fact." House answered. "Anyway, I have better things to do. It's been a blast."

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"Uncle Eric!" Tim cried, as Dr. Eric Foreman walked down the corridor.

"Timmy, my man," Foreman greeted his nephew with a high five, "dude, you must be bored out of your mind."

"I'm alright." Tim answered, grinning, "Can we drive past the park and watch the kids play?"

"Sure thing dude," Foreman answered, "Guess what? I've got tomorrow off, so I can have dinner with you're mother and your brother and sisters."

"Christmas rocks!" Tim shouted with joy. "It's the best time of the year."

Foreman and Tim made their way through the car park. When they reached Foreman's car, they quickly turned the heater on.

They drove down the backstreets, slowing down to look at the decorations.

"Look over there!" Tim cried.

Foreman glanced in his rear-view mirror. There were kids playing in the park.

"They're having a great time, Uncle Eric." Tim said sadly.

"That'll be you soon, Timmy." Foreman said softly, "Real soon."

"Yeah." Tim replied. "I'm getting stronger everyday." The small boy flexed his muscles.

Foreman laughed.

"Too right, Timmy. But we better get home quick, or your mother will kill me."

**Click click bottom left. Come on, you know you want to.**


	3. Vicodin Induced Hallucinations

**VICODIN INDUCED HALLUCINATIONS**

**A/N: Howdy readers! Again, thanks for the great response for the last chapter. The words of encouragement really mean a lot. Hope you enjoy this chapter.**

House hobbled through the dimly lit car park to his 1965 red Corvette, occasionally grumbling about the walking distance.

"Dr House, Dr Gregory House."

"What now?" House glared at the loud speaker at the corner of the car park. He checked his pager. Nothing. "Stupid interns and their second grade pranks." House started up his car, inserting his favourite holiday CD.

_(Deck the halls with boughs of holly fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la)  
(Tis the season to be jolly fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la) _

Outside the carollers start to sing  
I can't describe the joy they bring  
Cause joy is something they don't bring me

My girlfriend is by my side  
From the roof are hanging sickles of ice  
Their whiny voices get irritating  
It's Christmas time again

So I stand with a dead smile on my face  
Wondering how much of my time they'll waste  
Oh God I hate these Satan's helpers

And then I guess I must have snapped  
Because I grabbed a baseball bat  
And made them all run for shelter

It's Christmas time again  
It's time to be nice to the people you can't stand all year  
I'm growing tired of all this Christmas cheer  
You people scare me  
Please stay away from my home  
If you don't wanna get beat down  
Just leave the presents and then leave me alone.

Well I guess it's not cool to freak on Christmas Eve  
Cause the cops came and arrested me  
They had an unfair advantage

And even though the jail didn't have a tree  
Christmas came a night early  
Causes a guy named Bubba unwrapped my package (hot damn)

It's Christmas time again  
It's time to be nice to the people you can't stand all year  
I'm growing tired of all this Christmas cheer  
You people scare me  
Please stay away from my home  
If you don't wanna get beat down  
Just leave the presents and then leave me alone

I won't be home  
I won't be home for Christmas  
I won't be home  
I won't be home for Christmas (please post my bail)  
I won't be home  
I won't be home for Christmas (please post my bail)  
I won't be home  
I won't be home for Christmas (please post my bail)  
I won't be home  
I won't be home for Christmas (please post my bail)  
I won't be home  
I won't be home for Christmas

House arrived at his apartment, still chuckling from the song.

_I wish I had a baseball bat. _

House went to unlock his door, when he noticed something. He peered into the peephole.

"Dr House."

House jumped back in surprise.

"I'm hallucinating, that's all," he muttered to himself, "all the stress and annoying idiots just getting to me." House grabbed the bottle of Vicodin from his pocket and took one. House entered the apartment and collapsed in front of the TV.

_This is the life. Just my favourite soaps and me. _

"Dr House."

House jumped. He glanced around the apartment.

"Who's there?" House said, suspiciously. After a minute, he turned his attention back to the screen.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

"Crappy K-mart alarm clock," House muttered angrily, taking a Vicodin to regain his composure.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

"Hang on a minute," House said, "my alarm doesn't make that noise. A defibrillator does, but not my alarm clock. What the hell is going on? I only took 2 Vicodin!"

_Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep._

House looked around the room. From out of nowhere, a ghost floated in, wearing a white coat and a stethoscope, dragging behind him an IV and a defibrillator.

"What do you want from me?" House asked, obviously annoyed.

"Much." The doctor answered, swinging his stethoscope around.

"Okay, let's try another question," House said, "Who are you?"

"Correction: who was I?" the ghost pointed out.

"Oh, a riddle," House mocked, "fine, we'll play it your way, who were you?"

"In life, I was much like yourself – a doctor, driven by the desire to solve a problem." The ghost-doctor stated.

"Can you sit down?" House asked, now curious.

"I'm a ghost, not a dog you can command." The ghost-doctor snapped. "But I'll sit anyway, my feet are killing me." He burst out laughing. "Oh, I have to write that down."

After a minute, the ghost turned his attention back to House.

"You don't believe in me." He said, nodding knowingly.

"I don't. It's just the Vicodin. Though, it's never had this side effect before." House said, deep in thought.

"So you think I'm a hallucination?" The ghost-doctor asked.

"Basically." House nodded.

"But you see me, and you know perfectly well it isn't a side effect of the Vicodin." The ghost pointed out.

"Yeah, but when I see a lump in a CAT Scan, I don't automatically think it's a cancer. It could be a smudge, a shadow or a fingerprint. Seeing is not necessarily believing. Some things can act upon the senses, spoilt meat, off milk or even Dr Cuddy trying to poison me." House said, a smug expression on his face.

There was a moment of silence.

"Aghhhhhhh!" The ghost-doctor screamed, causing House to nearly fall out of his seat.

"Okay, you win," House answered, composing himself. "What do you want?"

"Firstly, do you believe in me or not?" the ghost asked.

"What the hell, sure. You're real. Happy?" House said, giving in.

"Yes." The ghost-doctor answered simply.

"But why me?" House asked.

"'It is required of every man that the spirit within him should walk abroad among his fellow man and travel far and wide. And if that spirit goes not forth in life it is condemned to do so after earth. It is doomed to wander through the world and witness what it cannot share.'" The ghost quoted.

"Why is everyone quoting Dickens?" House questioned. "So what you're trying to say is that if you aren't kind, you'll suffer in the after life."

"Pretty much," the ghost replied.

"What's with the defibrillator and the IV?" House asked.

"It is my legacy. I know nothing of life and living. I left no family or friends when I died. I stumble through death, hooked up to an IV of my work, which fills me with pain, keeping me sane. The defibrillator is the only thing keeping track of whether I'm dead or alive. I'm dead to myself. Does this not sound familiar to you? You carry the same equipment." The ghost said, pointing to House.

"I see no IV, no defibrillator." House said, looking around.

"Mine were invisible, till the day of my death," the ghost-doctor said, "as yours shall be."

"Don't you have any good news?" House asked, sighing.

"No." The ghost answered, shaking his head. "My spirit never left the hospital. In life I never knew anything other that the hospital I worked at, day after day, until I died."

"Look on the bright side," House said, "you must have been a good doctor."

"Doctor?" the ghost-doctor replied angrily "I diagnosed and healed the sick, but I couldn't cure the disease that was killing my soul."

"I'm sorry, Doc is there anything I can do. A drink perhaps, or a Vicodin?" House offered sympathetically.

"No." The ghost-doctor answered, "It's too late to help me. But I have come for you sake, Dr House."

"Thanks." House said, "And I don't even know your name."

"I have been sent to warn you." The ghost said, ignoring House's last comment. "And to offer you a hope and a chance of escaping my fate, you will be haunted by three spirits."

"Three spirits, oh crap!" House complained.

"At 1pm, the first will come." The ghost said.

"Can't they come at the same time?" House grumbled, "I could make some tea, put out some cookies and we could talk about the state of pop music."

"The second at 2pm. The third…" The ghost reached into his pocket and pulled out his notebook. "Well, I don't know. Whenever he feels like it I suppose. I cannot help you any more. Only you can help yourself."

The ghost-doctor faded away.

House looked around the room, concentrating. A look of realisation appeared on his face.

"Definitely Cuddy trying to poison me, that's for sure."

**A/N: Hmm, what an intriguing new development to this not-so original plot. Click click bottom left. You guys know what to do. **


	4. Ghost of Christmas Past

**GHOST OF CHRISTMAS PAST**

**A/N: Heyo Readers. Here's the 4th and 5th chapter. Go me for posting two chapters. Hopefully I'll have this done before Christmas. Honestly, I'm not liking my chances. Oh, well, it'll be done when it's done. Lol. On with the story.

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"Beepbeepbeepbeep."

House stirred in his sleep for a minute, then the realisation hit him.

"1am." House muttered, looking around expectantly.

"Just a dream, that all," he mumbled, and went back to sleep.

The curtains started rustling and a startled House jumped up from where he was sitting. A bright light appeared from nowhere. House could just make out a figure in the light.

"Are you one of the spirits I was warned about?" House demanded.

"I am." The spirit replied.

House squinted. It was a woman.

"Who and what are you?" House snapped.

"I am the ghost of Christmas Past." The woman replied.

House could clearly see the woman now.

"Cuddy?" He gasped in shock. "First you try to poison me, now you haunt me? What next? Are you going to chase me with a knife?"

"Oh, shut up, House! I don't want to do this anymore than you do. If you co-operate, I can make this as quick and painless as possible." Cuddy snarled.

"Like that'll happen," House scoffed.

"Let's just get this over with," Cuddy rolled her eyes. "Now where was I? Oh, I am the ghost of Christmas past."

"Long past?" House asked.

"No. Your past. Which is coincidental, since we have some what of a history."

"Don't remind me," House groaned, "anyway, what's with the weird hat?"

"It's not a hat, you moron, it's the light of truth." Cuddy snapped.

"Sorry!" House said sarcastically, "I must have missed the lesson at med school when they showed us the light of truth. What do you want, Cuddy, cause I don't do booty calls. Well, I do, just not for you."

"It is for your welfare that I appear." Cuddy said.

"How about you do something else for my welfare? Take me off clinic duty, or, for the love of God, let me get some sleep!" House cried.

"It's for your own damn good, House!" Cuddy snapped, "You think I want to be here, instead of asleep? No way!"

"My own damn good, why didn't you say so?" House retorted.

"Let's go," Cuddy snapped, holding out her hand.

"Just like old times, hey?" House said as he took her hand.

"Little less talking, a little more moving," Cuddy snapped.

Suddenly a think fog surrounded House and spirit-Cuddy.

"We shall be invisible and no one will hear us. Unfortunately for me, I'll hear you." Cuddy explained. She held up the light of truth. "You will see a little snot-nosed brat – yourself, as a child."

The fog cleared and House and Cuddy were standing in a snowy field.

"Do you know where you are?" Cuddy asked.

"Of course I do." House replied. "This is my hometown." House looked around at the kids playing. "That's Daniel Costas, and Robert Estes." House waved to them. "Hey, Daniel!" They kept playing. "The big one there; that's David Tyler. David, hey, over here, it's Greg!"

"For crying out loud!" Cuddy snapped, "Stop embarrassing yourself. They can't hear you."

"They look so happy," House whispered.

"Yeah," Cuddy said, "they do. Let's move on. You probably know the way."

"Like the handle of my cane," he muttered.

"Your old boarding school," Cuddy stated. "And it's Christmas Day."

"There's a lonely kid in there," House said.

"The boy is deserted, by his friends and family," Cuddy answered.

"His mother is a push-over and his Dad holds a grudge against him." House said angrily.

"Why?" Cuddy asked.

"He doesn't fit into his Dad's view of the perfect son – obedient, athletic and strong." House muttered.

"Poor kid," Cuddy said softly.

"He had his friends –" House murmured, "his music."

The child walked over to a piano and began playing a Christmas song.

"His Beethoven, his Chopin, his Mozart." House added.

"But not real friends," Cuddy interjected.

"Beethoven, not real? All those symphonies; the notes come to life, telling a story. How are they not real?" House asked. "He made do, this boy."

"Let's see another Christmas Day, when you were a teenager." Cuddy interrupted.

"Mother?" House said, looking at a figure in the doorway.

"Mother?" A teenage House called out, "Mother, what are you doing here?"

"I've come to bring you home, Greg," She replied, smiling.

"Home?" Greg asked, shocked.

"Your father's had a change of heart. He's been much happier, and one day I asked if you could come home. And he said yes." His mother answered.

"Are you sure?" Greg questioned uncertainly.

"You are a man, Gregory." His mother said sternly, "smart and strong. Your father would be proud."

Greg smiled at his mother.

"Let's not keep your father waiting."

They both walked outside.

"Father!" Greg called out, excitedly.

"Stand, let me look at you," his father snapped.

Greg stood at attention.

"I've grown," Greg said nervously, "I think."

"Most boys do," His father replied.

"Has your mother told you you'll be leaving?" His father asked.

"Yes, sir," Greg answered.

"It's time you made your way in the world. I've arranged to have you attend one of the best medical schools in the country. You'll leave in three days time." His father said.

"Three days?" his mother questioned. "I'd have hoped we'd have him here for longer."

"Three days is quite long enough," His father replied, "don't you think, Gregory."

"Yes, sir," Greg answered, "quite long enough."

"Let's get moving then, boy," His father said, hopping into the car.

They drove away. House stared after the car.

"My mother pleaded for more time, but my father's a very…strict man. Which is what you can expect from a Marine." House smiled sadly.

There was an awkward silence.

"How about we move on," Cuddy said softly.

"I though you'd never ask," House muttered, "it's freezing out here!"

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**A/N: I know what you're thinking: "I came, I read and I reviewed."**

**Now do what you promised!**


	5. The One That Got Away

**THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY**

**A/N: Too lazy to write an author's note. Oh look,I did!

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"We're here," Cuddy announced.

House glanced around, taking in his surroundings. They were standing in the middle of a hospital.

Cuddy pointed at a doctor reading a patient file.

"You know this man," she said.

"It's old Dr Fezziwig!" House answered, surprised.

A nurse walked up to Dr Fezziwig, carrying some files.

"Oh, yes, my dear. Would you tell Dr Peuring to refer that matter to Dr House? Thanks." Fezziwig turned back to his patient.

"And you know this place," Cuddy stated.

"Know it? Was I not an intern here?" House exclaimed.

"Pay attention everybody," Fezziwig cried. The young doctors formed a circle around him.

"No more work tonight doctors, your shifts' are over. It's Christmas Eve." Fezziwig cried excitedly. "So put those files down. We'll reconvene at the bar down the road."

The young doctors made their way to the locker room.

"Dr House," Fezziwig called out, "you'll enjoy yourself tonight, Gregory. That's an order."

"Well, I'll certainly try, Sir," A young Dr House replied half-heartedly.

"Put your heart into it." Fezziwig slapped him on the back, "you put enough of yourself into you work, and I have nothing but praise for the way you conduct yourself in the hospital. But you're young. There's more to life than stethoscopes and paper work."

"Come on, let's go to the bar," Cuddy said, making her way to the exit.

"What, can't we use that magic light thingy?" House complained.

"Shut up and get a move on!" Cuddy snapped.

They entered the bar. It was dimly lit and noisy. The jukebox in the corner was blaring some 60's classic.

"Hey, there's Mrs Fezziwig and her three daughters. Damn, those girls were fine!" House looked around, until someone caught his eye. "And Stacey. She was beautiful – still is."

A young Dr House approached Stacey.

"Hello Stacey,"

"Hi Greg," Stacey replied, brushing her hair back.

There was an awkward pause.

"Would you like to dance?" Greg asked.

"Yes," Stacey answered, without hesitation.

House and Cuddy watched the dancing from a distance.

"I'm surprised, House," Cuddy admitted, "you sure have some nice moves."

"Thanks," House replied sarcastically, "I wasn't born like this, you know."

"What an, arrogant jerk?" Cuddy snapped, "Well, you learn something new everyday."

They continued to watch as a young Dr House grabbed Stacey and pulled her into a kiss.

"Smooth!" House mumbled.

"Can your ego get any bigger?" Cuddy rolled her eyes.

"Your just jealous you're not the one I'm dancing with," House snapped.

"At least I can dance," Cuddy shot back.

"Ouch. You win." House said, defeated.

House turned his attention back to the party. He watched as a young House twirled Stacey around the dance floor. He smiled.

Cuddy led him to a quieter corner of the bar.

"Old Dr Fezziwig, a silly man," She remarked.

"Silly? What do you mean?" House asked.

"Well, what did he do to get the admiration of those doctors? Spent a few dollars? Danced like a clown? It doesn't look like you admired him for his mind." Cuddy said thoughtfully.

"True," House stated, "but the happiness he gave, was priceless."

"Come on, we have another stop," Cuddy directed, "I'll even use the light thingy."

A thick fog surrounded them. Once the fog cleared, House opened his eyes.

"My old apartment!" He exclaimed. "And my roommate, Paul."

A young Dr House was lying on the couch.

"Stacey," He murmured.

"Are you in love, Greg?" Paul teased.

"Could be," Greg mumbled.

"She's too good for you," Paul said matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, one day, when I've made a reputation, then I'll deserve her." Greg snapped, staring off into space.

"It's a night never to be forgotten," Paul said.

"Never." House replied.

"But you did forget," Cuddy pointed out, raising the light of truth, "lot's of times."

"Huh?" House answered, turning his attention back to Cuddy.

"Let's take you back to another Christmas Eve, delayed by your work." Cuddy said, as their new destination came into view. "Do you remember?"

"No," House replied.

They watched as a young Dr House rushed into a deserted hospital waiting room.

"Wasn't this before I came to your hospital?" House asked.

"Just watch!" Cuddy snapped.

"Hello, Stacey," A young Dr House said.

"Oh, not this!" House exclaimed. "You're doing this to torture me, aren't you?"

"Yes." Cuddy answered.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Greg said, leaning on his cane.

"I thought you might not come," Stacey looked away, "since your so busy."

"Well…" Greg paused. "As much as I wish they would, the sick don't heal themselves. And I'm not as fast as I used to be, even with my third leg." A young Dr House laughed bitterly.

Stacey sat there silently.

"My idol has displaced me," Stacey said softly.

"Huh?" House asked.

"Dickens, Greg. I thought you of all people would know that." Stacey snapped.

"What are you trying to say?" Greg asked impatiently.

"That I'm not your top priority anymore – your work is. You treat each illness like a puzzle, which you must solve. It's like…" Stacey paused.

"Like what?" Greg demanded.

"Like you trying to compensate for something," Stacey said, hesitantly.

"And by 'something' you mean the fact I'll never run or ice skate or skip-rope ever again. Look, I've accepted this, all I want is for us to move on." Greg snapped.

"I don't think you have," Stacey whispered, "I think you're suffering, but you're just too stubborn to let anyone help!"

"Of course I'm suffering!" Greg snapped "suffering from the pain!"

"I mean emotionally," Stacey said.

"I don't need a shrink, I've got my Vicodin. I'm fine." Greg said bitterly.

"I want to help you," Stacey cried.

"That's the problem," Greg said, "Everybody wants to help. Or they see the cane and look away, embarrassed. I don't need help. I just want to be left alone."

There was a pause.

"Fine." Stacey replied.

"Fine?" Greg questioned.

"I can't do this anymore." Stacey sighed. "I've tried, Greg, for the sake of this relationship, I've tried. If you want to be alone – fine."

Stacey started to walk away, but turned back.

"May you be happy with the life you have chosen."

A young Dr House watched sadly as she left.

"I almost went after her," House admitted.

"But you didn't," speculated Cuddy, "why didn't you follow her?"

"Because she was right," House answered, staring at his younger self. "I was in pain. I think, deep down, I knew that she'd never be truly happy with me, since I was never happy. And I was only really happy when I was working – solving puzzles. Which has only brought me fame."

"Congratulations," Cuddy replied sarcastically.

"Don't be like that," House snapped. "It's benefited your precious hospital. I've had enough of this, take me home."

"Not until you see what you've lost." Cuddy remarked. She held up the light of truth. They were sitting in a booth in a coffee shop.

"Why are we here?" House asked.

"Look behind you," Cuddy answered.

House turned.

"Stacey," He said.

"Yes, Stacey," Cuddy smirked.

"Sorry I'm late, Hon," A man sat across from Stacey.

"Mark, why are you so late?" Stacey asked.

"Just doing some last minute shopping," He replied casually.

"Anything for me?" she asked.

"We'll just have to see, won't we," Mark answered mysteriously. "Isaw an old friend of yours in the city today,"

"Who was it?" Stacey asked.

"Guess." Mark replied, slyly.

"Mark, you know I hate this game!" Stacey laughed.

"It's true, she does," House said to Cuddy.

"Um, Gregory House?" Stacey guessed.

"Dr House it was," Mark answered, "I was having lunch with a colleague and there he was, sitting at the table across from me, alone. It was a sad sight."

"Idiot." House grumbled, "What would he know?"

"Poor Greg," Stacey said sympathetically.

"Oh, go feel sorry for someone who needs it. I don't want it!" House muttered angrily.

Cuddy laughed.

"What?" House snapped.

"They can't hear you." She laughed.

"Shut up, Cuddy!" House snapped, "I've had enough of this 'trip down memory lane'. Don't you have a hospital to run? Go away!"

"You can't run from the truth, House," Cuddy replied. "Actually, you can't run fullstop."

House grabbed the light of truth and threw it to the ground.

A bright light blinded him. When everything came into focus, he noticed he was back in his living room. Spirit Cuddy was nowhere to be seen.

"Freaking hallucinations," House muttered.

He grabbed the bottle of pills from the table and took a couple of Vicodin.

"Maybe now I can get some sleep."

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**A/N: That goes for the author too! Remember to review ;)**


	6. Ghost of Christmas Present

**GHOST OF CHRISTMAS PRESENT**

**A/N: Well, I'd have to say that this is a new record. Not only have I posted for two days in a row, but also I've posted two chapters each day, for two days. Wow, I think I might start crying soon. Enjoy!

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**

"Beepbeepbeepbeep."

House jumped at the sound of the alarm. He rolled over and glanced at his alarm clock. 2am.

"Shit," House muttered. He looked at the clock again. 2:03am. "I thought that ghost-doctor said two, not two-ish."

"Dr Gregory House!"

House looked around nervously.

"Dr Gregory House!"

"What the?" House muttered. He noticed a bright light coming from the dining room.

"Come in!"

"It's my apartment, I'll do whatever I want!" House grumbled, walking towards the dining room. He opened the door and was hit by a blinding light. House squinted, quickly adjusting to the light. The table contained enough food to feed 20 people. At the head of the table sat a familiar face, wearing a long green robe and carrying a torch.

"You've never seen the likes of me before?" The figure laughed.

"Dr Chase, I should've known. Late as always." House said sarcastically, "But the costume, oh my God, someone page queer eye, ASAP!"

"Dr House," Spirit-Chase rolled his eyes, "Queer Eye is so last year."

"Touché," House admitted, "Anyway, what can I do for you?"

"Take a hold of my robe, Dr House," Chase commanded.

House took a hesitant step forward.

"Your robe won't slip, or anything?" House asked.

"Trust me, it won't," Chase answered.

"You see, Chase, I don't trust you," House pointed out.

"Hmm, true," Chase agreed, "but I've got Cuddy on speed-dial, and she owes me a favour."

House shuddered at the thought of spirit-Cuddy.

"Fine, what other choice do I have," House said, grabbing Chase's sleeve.

"That's the spirit!" Chase joked.

A bright light blinded House, again. When everything came into focus, they found themselves walking through a park, dodging children on sleds.

"So, what day is it?" House asked.

"I'm the ghost of Christmas Present," Chase snapped, "I can't time travel. But to answer your question, it's Christmas Morning."

They kept walking.

"Touchy, touchy. So, your torch, is that like Cuddy's light of truth?" House asked.

"Well, it's not as girly," Chase answered, "but in some ways, it is."

"Could've fooled me," House muttered.

"We're here," Chase stopped in front of an apartment building.

"Thank God." House mumbled.

"Do you know this place?" Chase questioned.

"No." House replied.

"It's Foreman's sister's house," Chase said.

"Was that something I was supposed to know?" House snapped, "Will it come up on 'Who Wants to be a Millionaire'? Honestly, you ask some dumb questions!"

"Let's go in," Chase said, opening the door.

"I must say, you're getting good at this whole breaking and entering thing," House praised the spirit, "but I don't want to go in."

"Like Cuddy said, we'll be invisible and unheard," Chase pointed out.

They entered the house.

"When's Uncle Eric going to get here?" A girl, about 15, asked the woman setting the table.

"He should be here shortly," the woman answered, "I'm sorry this Christmas won't be as extravagant as the last few years were, but with all the hospital bills, I haven't had much money to put away."

That's okay, Mum," The younger girl, 13 or so, answered, "at least your turkey will be kick-ass!"

"How many times have I told you not to swear in this house?" The woman scolded, "And Peter!" A boy, about 14, was biting into a baked potato. "Save some food for the rest of us!"

"I'm just testing it!" The boy cried.

A boy and girl about 10 ran into the kitchen.

"Mum, Uncle Eric is coming! We saw him on the footpath!" They squealed.

"Get you brother and lunch will be ready soon," The woman instructed.

"Merry Christmas, everyone!" Eric greeted his family. The kids ran up to him, jumping and yelling.

"You're late, bro," The woman shouted happily.

"Sorry, Janelle," Foreman said. He high-fived his nieces and nephews as Tim came into the kitchen.

"There you are, slowpoke," His mother teased, kissing her youngest son on the head.

"Tim, 'A Very Brady Christmas' is just about to start!" his sister cried.

"Yeah, come on!" His brother said, grabbing his crutches.

"Goand watch TVwith your brothers and sisters," his mother instructed.

"How was he yesterday at the hospital?" Janelle asked.

"He was great. The doctors are liking his chances." Foreman replied, watching as the younger children helped Tim to the living room."

"Look how they support him," House mused.

"Huh?" Chase questioned.

"Nothing…it…nothing." House muttered.

"He gets so philosophical waiting by himself," Foreman stated, "he said he strangest thing. He said he hoped people saw his was disabled, so they'd appreciate what they had, especially since it's Christmas. That kid's a fighter. Like his mother."

"Thank you, Eric," Janelle said softly, "for everything you've done for Tim. And for me."

There was a pause. Eric smiled reassuringly at his sister.

"Belinda," Janelle called to her eldest daughter, "help me with the turkey."

"Peter, come here," Foreman's eldest nephew ran into the kitchen. "Yesterday, I was talking to Dr Wilson, and he mentioned he was friends with the man who owned the sporting goods store downtown. And if you come by during the week for an interview, he can guarantee you a job there."

"Awesome!" Peter cried, "Now I can help Mum out!"

"I heard the pay rate's $7.50 an hour," Foreman mentioned, "All you've got to do is promise me one thing,"

"Yeah?" Peter asked.

"You start putting away some money for college." Foreman said.

"Trust Wilson," House muttered, "why would he care so much about Foreman's nephew?"

"Maybe because he's a nice person," Chase suggested, "Foreman's sister, she works two jobs to support her family, since her husband left two years ago. Foreman does what he can to help her out, but he's got heaps of college fees to pay off. Lately, Tim's been in and out of the hospital. Foreman's been pulling all sorts of favours and taking heaps of extra shifts at the clinic to get Tim the best possible care."

House was about to respond, when Janelle's shrill voice interrupted them.

"Food's ready!"

They all rushed to the table.

"Uncle Eric! Cut the turkey, we're starving!" One of the little kids cried out.

"Wait!" Janelle commanded, "We have to say grace."

"I'll do it," Peter volunteered. Everyone bowedtheir head.

"_Just so we don't seem really rude;_

_Thank you God for this delicious food!"_

"Amen." Everyone said, laughing.

House laughed at the prayer.

"Nice."

"Huh?" Chase said.

"Nothing," House answered.

"I thought I heard…" Chase replied.

"I didn't say anything." House repeated. "Idiot!"

"Now, I heard that." Chase snapped.

"Are we all served?" Foreman asked.

His question was met with a chorus of 'yes'.

"Good stuff. And a Merry Christmas, everyone." He added.

"Merry Christmas." Everyone said.

"And God bless us, everyone," Tim said, softly.

"Have you been reading Dickens, Tim?" Foreman asked.

Tim nodded and began eating.

House smiled and took a step forward.

"Will he live, Chase?" House asked.

"At the moment, no, he won't," Chase answered sadly, "but if the future is altered, he will."

"I thought Foreman said he was improving," House stated.

"Remember your rule, House. People lie. Maybe Foreman was trying to spare his sister's feeling on Christmas," Chase suggested.

"But…"

"Do I have to quote Dickens to make you understand?" Chase cried out, frustrated. "'It these shadows remain unaltered by the future he will die.' Oh, well, maybe it's his fate. On the plus side, it keeps the population under control."

"Twisting my words, hey?" House snapped, "That's such a cheap shot."

"Yes. Maybe you'll think twice before you speak." Chase retorted.

"Yes, and maybe Cuddy will dance around the hospital in a 'Heidi' costume." House said.

"The dinner was excellent," Foreman grinned, "Janelle, I couldn't eat another bite!"

"So, House, have you learned anything tonight?" Chase asked.

"Other than Foreman can't sing," House said, pointing to Foreman as he gathered around the piano, singing with the children. "Not really."

"We've still got another stop to make," Chase said, "the night's not over yet."

"Oh, joy," House muttered.

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**A/N: As always, a review or two would be nice ;)**


	7. Ignorance and Want

**IGNORANCE AND WANT**

**A/N: The second chapter, enjoy. Oh, and a quick note, the characters that I use as spirits, eg, Chase and Cuddy, they aren't dead. All will be explained later.

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**

"Where are we now?" House asked.

"Just a street," Chase answered mysteriously. "Oh, look, our destination." Chase turned to House, "We're going here."

They walked up to the door.

"You might even find this entertaining," Chase said.

"I doubt it," House grumbled, "Hey, this is Wilson's house."

"Yep," Chase answered, as they walked inside.

Everyone was chatting and laughing inside. House saw Wilson talking to Cuddy and Chase was pouring Cameron a drink.

"How the hell are you 'there' and 'here' at the same time?" House asked, confused.

"I don't know," Chase shrugged, "why is a mouse when it spins?"

"Huh?" House questioned.

"Huh?" Chase answered.

Wilson burst out laughing, at the same time as Foreman came through the door.

"Sorry I'm late, everyone," Foreman said, "Did I miss something?"

"Oh, I was thinking of House and when he said Christmas was a humbug. It was like I was in a bad re-enactment of 'A Christmas Carol'!" Wilson laughed.

"I'd like to meet this 'Dr House' sometime," Wilson's current girlfriend commented, "He sounds like such an interesting character."

"Oh, honey, you don't want to meet House," Cuddy laughed, "Interesting, yes. Rude and obnoxious, hell yes."

"I heard he was one of the best doctors in his field," someone called out.

"True, but his gift is no use to him. Sure, he treats people and everything, but if he wanted to, he could write papers that would be studied at Medical Schools all over the country. He could write articles that would feature in every major medical journal in the world." Wilson stated.

"It's called modesty, and I've been told it's an endearing quality," House muttered.

"You're the most arrogant person I've met!" Chase snapped. "You're about as modest as I am American!"

"I have no patience for him," Cuddy stated.

"I feel sorry for him," Cameron said quietly.

"You would, wouldn't you," House snapped.

"He makes people feel bad, because he feels bad. He would never admit it, but he's suffering. How do you think House spending Christmas?" Cameron asked, "With a bottle of vodka, his soaps and his Vicodin. Alone."

"It's his choice," Wilson pointed out, "besides, House, here, celebrating. It's just not him. I ask him every year, and without hesitation, he says no. He's such a 'Scrooge'."

"What's that he says?" Wilson's girlfriend, Janet questioned, "Bah! Humbug!"

Everyone burst out laughing.

"I'm nothing like 'Scrooge'!" House exclaimed.

"Didn't you say 'Bah, Humbug'?" Chase asked.

"Yeah, but only to prove a point!" House snapped.

"Which was?" Chase questioned, smiling.

There was a pause.

"I hate you, Chase." House grumbled.

"Okay, everybody, how about a game?" Wilson shouted.

"How about 'Medical Terms'?" Janet suggested.

"Perfect!" Wilson replied. "Does everyone know the rules? You each have five seconds to answer. I'll give you a few symptoms and you name the illness. Topper, can you keep score?"

"Since I know nothing about medicine, sure!" he joked.

"You'll get five seconds to answer," Wilson explained, "if you don't come up with a suitable answer in that time, then you must stand behind your chair. Last one seated wins the prize."

"Just get on with it, man!" Foreman cried.

"Okay, okay," Wilson grinned. He pointed to Cameron. "Symptoms are: vomiting, lethargy, extreme fatigue, muscle weakness, cardiac arrhythmias and kidney failure."

"Hypercalcemia," Cameron answered.

"Right!" Wilson exclaimed. He turned to Foreman. "Symptoms: leg aches, numbness of lower leg, leg ulcers and eventually gangrene."

"Uh, Peripheral Vascular Disease?" Foreman guessed.

"Yes! Uh, Lisa, high fever, chills, headache, skin rash and clouding of consciousness."

"Septicaemia." Cuddy answered.

"Nice one, Cuddy," Chase said.

"Shut up! I'm trying to listen!" House snapped.

"Ah, Janet. Symptoms are: coughing, chest pain, breathlessness, fever, lack of appetite, pleural effusion and pneumothorax."

"Uh," Janet paused.

"1…" Everyone cried.

"2…3…4…5!"

"Tuberculosis! Everyone knows that!" House muttered.

"Time's up! It was Tuberculosis," Wilson answered.

"It's now time to leave this pleasant place," Chase announced, "We have one more place to visit, then we're done." Chase held out his arm. "You know the drill."

Again, a blinding bright light hit House.

"Where are we now?" House asked, adjusting to the light. "I've never been here before."

They were standing in front of a crowded office, downtown.

"Of course you haven't," Chase agreed, "It's the free clinic downtown."

House looked at the people coughing and the people lined up outside. He noticed a little boy, lying on the sidewalk.

"Next please!" A doctor called out from inside.

"Why are all these people out here?" House asked, "There are public hospitals, shelters."

"Have you ever been in one?" Chase asked.

"Not recently," House snapped, "but that's where my taxes are supposed to go. Isn't that enough?"

"Is it?" Chase asked. He shrugged and turned back to the clinic. House watched as people entered and left the clinic. He stared at the little boy leaning against a bench, near death.

"Why do you show me this?" House asked. "What does it have to do with me?"

"You still haven't learned! Look here!" Chase cried, lifting his robes.

There were two children, dirty and dressed in rags. They were human – just.

"Look!" Chase shouted.

"What are they?" House gasped.

"They are your children," Chase replied, "their names are 'Ignorance' and 'Want'. Beware of them. On their brow is written the word 'doom'. They spell the destruction of you and everyone who denies their existence."

"Don't they have a home?" House asked, bewildered.

"Aren't there hospitals? Shelters?" Chase questioned.

"I don't want to see this! Cover them!" House demanded.

"I thought as much," Chase replied, covering the children. "They're hidden…but they live."

There was a pause. House turned away.

"Well, time for me to leave, Dr House." Chase said.

"What, you're leaving me here?" House asked.

"Yes." Chase answered.

"You can't do that!" House cried, "Take me back to my apartment."

"It's too late," Chase laughed.

"I'm freezing my ass off here!" House shouted. "And I'm completely lost!"

Chase started laughing. House was hit with a blinding light that he knew so well. Chase was gone.

"Chase?" House yelled, "I'll give you a raise, come back!"

House waited for a few minutes.

"Maybe he raised some valid points," House admitted, "I've made some comments about things I don't know anything about. Maybe I'm too quick to judge people. Maybe I'm going insane, talking to myself. Maybe I need a Vicodin. No, I definitely need a Vicodin. Chase! I'm going to fire your sorry ass!"

House sat down on the curb.

"What have I done?" House whispered, "To be abandoned like this?"

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**A/N: How'd you enjoy that, peoples? Don't forget to review. Your reviews make a teenage girl smile ;)**


	8. Ghost Of Christmas Yet To Come

**THE GHOST OF CHRISTMAS YET TO COME**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own anything, in fact I may own less than I originally did.**

**A/N: I know, a year between updates is not cool. To be honest, this fic was longer and more complicated that I originally planned and it wasn't finished in time. So I (embarresingly) put it on hiatus until Christmas 06 and now…here it is! Hope you enjoy it and thank you for sticking with it after so long.

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**

House sat shivering on the curb. He was downtown, cold and totally lost.

"I wish I'd brought my iPod," he muttered.

The streetlight flickered out.

"Crap," House swore, pulling his cane close.

The light flickered back on, revealing a cloaked figure.

"About time!" House cried. He stood up, "You are the third one, aren't you?"

The cloaked figure nodded in response.

"Oh, goody!" House mumbled, "So you're the ghost of Christmas yet to come?"

The spirit nodded again.

"God, this is like a bad game of charades," House exclaimed.

This comment triggered another nod from the spirit.

House laughed.

"You're good," House stated, nodding approvingly, "so you're showing me the 'future'?"

The spirit stared straight at House, making him take a step back.

"Look, this'd work better if you ditched the cloak," House suggested, "This set up screams 'teen horror movies'."

The spirit didn't move.

"Never the less, you've creeped me out," House stated simply, "but I'll still go with you."

There was a pause.

"What, aren't you going to talk to me?" House demanded.

Nothing but silence.

"Fine!" House snapped, "Let's go then. Get it over and done with."

There was a flash of lightning. House looked around at his surroundings.

"Great, the hospital," House grumbled, "this is probably part of Cuddy's plan to get me to work more clinic hours."

The spirit pointed to a doorway, which House obediently entered. It was the boardroom.

"I don't know much about it." One board member shrugged, "I only know he's dead."

"When did he die?" Another asked.

"Last night," Board member number one answered.

"What about his stuff?" The second one asked, "His corvette?"

"Left it to his fish, probably," the first one suggested, "who else did he have?"

Both board members laughed.

"Cuddy'll probably make us go to his funeral, won't she?" The first board member asked.

"Hey, I'll go if there's booze at the wake," The second laughed.

"Hey, you're talking about the drunkest doctor in the place," Board member number one chuckled, "of course they'll be booze."

"Geez," House shook his head, "how rude!"

He listened as the two men left the room, laughing.

"What a waste of my time," House muttered. He stared up at the spirit, "what does this have to do with me?"

There was a flash of lightning and House found himself in his apartment, standing in the doorway of his bedroom.

In the dark he could make out a body covered by a white sheet. He took a tentative step towards the bed.

"What, in the name of 'General Hospital' is this?" he muttered.

House stepped towards the bed and froze, staring at the ghost.

"Spirit, whatever you are!" House cried angrily, "I've seen enough – I want to leave!"

Another bolt of lightning. The spirit slowly raised a concealed arm and pointed its bony finger at the body.

House reluctantly reached down to remove the sheet, but paused and pulled back.

"No way in hell." House stated, "I get what you're implying. And there's got to be someone out there that gives a crap about this man's death!"

There was another flash of lightning and House found himself standing in the dingy part of downtown.

"So you've brought me to 'da hood'," House snickered, "this isn't as bad as how they portray it on TV." House quickly sidestepped a rat. "I take that back."

Police sirens and yelling could be heard in the distance.

The spirit simply pointed in the direction of a small, dirty building.

"'Joe's Pawn Shop'" House read, "classy place." He entered the shop.

An unshaven man entered from a different entrance, coughing. An old woman dressed in worn, mismatched clothing stood at the dusty counter. The store smelt musty and reeked of urine, every object imaginable lining the already cluttered shelves.

"Show us what you've got, Mrs Dilber," the shopkeeper demanded, "we'll see if it's worth my while."

"On one condition," the woman replied nervously, "Joe, you're not to ask how I got these."

"Hey, Mrs Dilber," Joe patted her shoulder, "you gotta do what you gotta do to survive. That's what I say."

"Well, I guess he was dead," the woman murmured.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Joe chuckled.

"And who's to care if a few things go missing?"

"Not a dead man, that's for sure," Joe nodded.

"And it's not like he had anyone caring for him," the woman stated, "He was just lying there – dead for God-knows how long. Christ, it'll probably be days before they find the body."

Joe started rummaging through a few items.

"That looks like my iPod," House muttered, glancing at the other items, "my TiVo, my game boy…" House turned to the spirit, "Those are my things! That old bitch has stolen my stuff! I have to call the police."

"So…." The woman trailed off, "how much?"

Joe glanced over the items, tapping some numbers into a calculator.

"Hang on a minute…" House murmured, "This isn't my stuff. Sure, it's similar, but the dead guy can't be me. Similar, but…"

"$153." Joe said finally. "And this isn't open for negotiation."

"You cheap son of a bitch," Mrs Dilber swore, "what a rip off!"

"Oh, come on, Mrs Dilber, "Joe said sympathetically, "I'm always good to the ladies – you lot with be the ruin of me."

Both started laughing.

"Look here, spirit," House said angrily, "I don't know if you're deaf, dumb and mute, or deaf, mute and pretending to be dumb, or deaf and pretending to be mute, which in turn makes you dumb or pretending to be deaf and mute while actually being dumb, but I asked to see someone who actually cared about this man's death, not con-man Joe and crazy Mrs Dilber! What happened to 'tenderness' or 'depth of feeling'?"

There was a flash of lightning and House found himself transported somewhere else.

"Chase brought me here earlier," House snapped.

The spirit simply pointed at the door.

House nodded.

"Very well."

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**A/N: Hope you like that!**

**You're reviews make an emo kid smile!**


	9. Tenderness And Depth Of Feeling

TENDERNESS AND DEPTH OF FEELING

**A/N: I read somewhere that 'A/N' actually stood for 'Apologetic Note' and that's what this one's for. I know, I said I'd have this finished by Christmas, but then Christmas came faster than I thought, and my computer broke and I had to get it fixed – but instead of leaving it for next year – here it is. The final three chapters, finishing off this saga of a fic. Thank you to those who stuck with it, thank you to everyone who reviewed and thank you to everyone who read it. Thank you, and Happy New Year.

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**

House peered into the Foreman living room for the second time that night.

"'Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not,'" Peter read aloud from the bible, "'for such is the Kingdom of God. Verify I say unto you whosoever shall not receive the Kingdom of God as a little child he shall not enter therein.'"

Janelle looked up from her knitting, gently rubbing her eyes.

"Ma?" Belinda asked cautiously, "Are you alright?"

"This work," she muttered, "it hurts my eyes – that's better."

The children looked up at her, concerned.

"I just don't want your Uncle to see me in this state, is all," Janelle smiled reassuringly, "speaking of Eric, isn't he supposed to be home by now?"

"An hour ago," Peter corrected, glancing at the clock, "he takes longer than he used to."

"Yet, when he's with…" Janelle cleared her throat and gave them a forced smile, "Tim, he's the first one out the hospital."

"And so am I from school," Peter said sadly.

"And I." A younger girl replied.

"He was so light to carry," Janelle mused, "and for your Uncle, the strong oaf, it was no trouble."

There was a knock at the door and a jingle of keys as Foreman let himself into the house.

"Hey, Uncle Eric."

"Hey guys," Foreman greeted them, taking off his coat.

He gave his sister a hug, then each of the children.

"You're late," Janelle shook her head, "we were getting worried."

"I'm glad you're home, Uncle Eric," Peter said cheerfully.

"Me too," A little girl about seven chimed in, crawling into Foreman's lap.

"Why, you're becoming a little handful," Foreman grinned. He turned to Janelle, his expression serious. "I drove past his grave today – that's why I'm late."

"Today?" Janelle said, surprised.

House watched on, curious.

"I – I couldn't keep away," Foreman admitted, "It's so…peaceful. And green. We should go down on Sunday…I promised every Sunday I would visit…" Foreman hesitated, "My little man. Little, little man…"

"Uncle Foreman, please cheer up," Peter pleaded.

"I'm sorry, guys," Foreman apologized, "I've got you guys – I'm a truly lucky man."

Janelle smiled sadly.

"Do you know who I saw on the street today?" Foreman asked, pouring himself some coffee, "Dr Wilson. He says Hi, by the way. He saw I was upset, or Cameron probably told him. I told him about – about…Tim and he sends his deepest sympathies and…"

Foreman paused, staring into his coffee cup, upset.

"Oh, Eric," Janelle stood up, giving her brother a hug, "Timmy's a part of us all and he always will be. But we can't go on like this, for the children's sake, for our sakes, for his sake. As long as we have each other, and love one another, Tim will always be alive."

"Your mother's right," Foreman turned to his nieces and nephews, "she's always right."

The kids started giggling.

"But remember," Foreman continued, "whenever we're separated, whether it's to go to college or the families you will one day form, I know none of us will forget Tim."

"Never." The children replied in unison.

"And," Janelle added, sniffing, "when we remember how patient and how calm he was…" she laughed, "and how short he was, we will sure as not argue or complain amongst ourselves, for we truly understand the value of family."

"I am grateful," Foreman smiled, "for the happiness you guys bring me."

House stared at the family, no smart remark escaping his lips.

"I asked for tenderness and depth of feeling – and that's what I got," House nodded at the spirit. "There is nothing left for me to see."

The room grew dark.

"Take me home."

* * *

In a flash of lightning, House was transported to a graveyard. Thunder rolled in the distance. 

"What the hell?" House muttered. He looked around. The graveyard was overgrown, headstones covered in snow. "I thought you were taking me home!"

The spirit walked forward, beckoning him with a finger.

"Your 'come hither' look needs some work," House grumbled, following. "I can't wait until this 'adventure' is over."

House walked through the graveyard, shivering.

"Hey," House called out, "That man, back at the apartment – who was he?"

A bolt of lightning flashed of a specific grave.

He continued walking forward, becoming nervous.

"Answer me this – Ghost thing: have the things you have shown me the definite, cannot be altered future, or just a 'version'?"

The spirit simply pointed to the snow-covered headstone.

House crouched over the headstone, his hand hovering inches away.

"The way we live our lives determines how they end – I'm a doctor, I accept that. A seventy-year-old man with breathing problems who has smoked for the last fifty-five years will have a huge chance of getting lung cancer – again, I accept that. But if that man quits smoking at, say, thirty, his chances of lung cancer are greatly reduced – proving it possible for mere mortals to alter their future." House paused, staring at the grave before him, "What I am going to see – tell me it can be changed."

An angry flash of lightning filled the sky.

House rubbed the snow off the headstone.

_Dr. Gregory House._

"Oh spirit!" House cried, "Believe me when I say I can change, no; I have changed. I will not be the man I was before… before this! Why show me…'this' if I'm screwed for…'eternal damnation'! There must be some way to – to reverse this!"

House stared at the ground.

"Good spirit," House sobbed, "say you pity me, you'll show mercy! Say that 'this' can be altered. I, I will respect, if not honour Christmas each year! I'll live in the past, present and future – you three spirits guiding me towards what is right. I will not ignore what you have shown me or the lessons you have taught! Tell me!" House cried, staring, defeated, at the headstone, "Tell me I can wash away the writing on this stone! Please!"

House continued to sob, crying out.

"Please!"

House looked up. He was lying in his bed, in his apartment.

"Oh, thank god!" House looked around, touching various item on his dresser; his gameboy, his i-Pod. He grabbed his bottle of Vicodin and swallowed a few pills.

"I'm alive!"


	10. Christmas Morning

**CHRISTMAS MORNING**

**A/N: Second last chapter – woot! Man, I can't believe this is drawing to an end; this has truly been a journey. Enjoy!

* * *

**

A sleeping House was awoken by the buzz of his alarm clock. He stirred, and then sat up.

"9:00," he muttered, rushing to the window. "But what day is it?"

He looked outside and spotted a boy walking past.

"Hey, hey you! Kid!" House yelled.

"What?" The kid yelled back.

"What day is it?" House asked.

"It's Christmas Day, duh!" The kid yelled.

"Run down to the store around the corner and buy the largest turkey they have and bring it back!"

"Are you crazy, mister?" The kid cried.

"Oh, and pick up a bottle of champagne on your way back – the most expensive one!"

"I'm only fifteen!" The kid protested.

"Do it and I'll give you twenty, no, fifty bucks!" House instructed.

The kid ran off.

House hobbled away from the window, grabbing his can and dancing with it.

"I'm as light as Nicole Ritchie!" He cried, dancing around, "I'm as happy as a clown on crack! I'm as giddy as a...drunk!"

House heard a knock at his front door and rushed out the room.

Outside, a man stood, tapping his foot impatiently and shivering.

"If you're lying kid, I'll put my foot so far up your ass you'll be walking funny for a month!" The man grumbled.

"It's true – do you think I'd be freezing my ass of if it wasn't!" The kid snapped.

"Stupid, smart-ass street punks…"

House flung open the door.

"Ah, Merry Christmas!" He greeted them.

"This punk says you want a turkey – and this." He held up a bottle of champagne.

"That's right." House turned to the teenager. "Here's $50, peace out, dude."

"Whatever." The kid rolled his eyes, jogging away.

"Now," House turned to the man, "here's the money and an address. Deliver this to that address."

"I don't do deliveries," The man snapped.

House gave him an extra $50.

"Well, it is Christmas…" The man grinned.

"I thought so," House smirked, "take this to Janelle Foreman."

House watched as the man climbed into him pick-up and drove away. He looked around.

"Wonderful day."

* * *

House walked through town, taking in the kids sledding in the park and couple skating. He stopped by a group of carollers. 

'_O Come All Ye Faithful  
Joyful and triumphant,  
O come ye, O come ye to Bethlehem'_

"Beautiful, just magical," House praised the singers, "the next American Idol, every single one of you!"

He threw some money in a hat on the ground.

"Merry Christmas!" He called out cheerfully, continuing on his merry way.

He reached the free clinic and paused. He entered the building.

The seats were filled with sick people, kids running around. He spotted two familiar faces.

"Ah, Dr Poole, Dr Hacking, Merry Christmas!" House grinned.

"Um, Merry Christmas?" Dr Poole replied uncertainly.

"Look, men, I know you don't particularly like me…" House trailed off.

Dr Hacking glanced at his watch.

"Dr House, we're rather busy – the sick don't heal themselves."

"Quite true," House laughed, "Anyway, I just wanted to apologize for my attitude earlier – can't we let bygones be bygones?"

"Dr House, I'm afraid we don't have time for this – "

"I would like to offer my services to your cause." House interrupted.

"You – want to help?" Dr Poole asked, incredulously.

"Yeah," House shrugged, "I have a few errands to run, but I'll be back in, say, an hour?"

"That's – that's fantastic!" Dr Hacking grinned, "Thank you, Dr House, thank you!"

* * *

_Ding-dong._

Janelle Foreman opened her front door, curious.

"Janelle Foreman?" A man carrying a turkey and a bottle of champagne asked.

"Yeah?"

"This is for you," The man shoved the items in her arms.

"Eric!" She called out. She turned back to the man. "I didn't order these!"

"What's up, sis?" Foreman asked. He glanced at the man, "What's this?"

"I have a delivery for Janelle Foreman – at this address." The man shrugged, walking back to his pick up.

"There must be some mistake," Foreman protested.

"Some guy paid for this and told me to deliver it to this address – '_Anonymous_'." The guy shrugged, "Look, mister, it's free booze and a turkey – who cares where it came from. I wouldn't."

The man drove off.

"What in the world?" Janelle muttered as she placed the items on the kitchen table.

"Who could've sent it?" Foreman pondered.

"I have no idea," Janelle shook her head, "certainly no one I know."

"It could be a mistake," Foreman suggested.

"It has Mum's name and address of it," Peter pointed out.

"What should we do with it?" Belinda asked.

"Eat it, of course," Janelle grinned, "It'll be the greatest Christmas dinner ever."

"And God bless us, everyone." Tim grinned.

"Oh, Tim," everyone laughed.

* * *

"Oh, it's beautiful," Janet gushed, admiring the bracelet on her wrist. 

"I'm glad you like it," Wilson replied, relieved. "Merry Christmas, Janet."

There was a knock at the door.

"A bit early for guests," Janet said curiously.

Wilson went to the peephole.

"Oh my, it's House!" Wilson muttered, shocked.

"House?" Janet gasped, "What would he want?"

Wilson opened the door.

"Merry Christmas, Jimmy," House chucked his friend a beer, "I come bearing gifts."

"A bit early, don't you thing?" Wilson placed his drink on the table.

House followed suit.

"You're right, I suppose."

House noticed Janet.

"Merry Christmas," he greeted, "want one?"

"No – no thanks," Janet stuttered, "um, Merry Christmas."

"House, this is Janet," Wilson introduced the two, "Janet, Dr Greg House."

"Nice to meet you," House nodded.

"House," Wilson began, "to be honest, I'm surprised you're here."

"I don't blame you," House shrugged, "I said some things yesterday – that Christmas was all about commercialism and buying as much shit as one can. As Dickens put it, I basically said Christmas was a 'humbug'."

"That was basically the gist of it." Wilson nodded.

"I've come for three reasons," House explained, "first; to apologize for my attitude – I, I was wrong."

"House, apologizing - I must be dreaming," Wilson muttered.

"Second, to ask if my invitation for Christmas dinner still stands."

"Of course you're welcome!" Wilson exclaimed.

"And thirdly – to eat!"

The three started laughing.

"I think I'll take you up on that beer,' Wilson laughed.

"It really is nice to meet you, Janet," House pulled her aside, "I was curious – do you know the game 'Medical Terms'?"

"Yes, it's one of my favourites," Janet answered, looking puzzled.

"Did you know that the symptoms for tuberculosis include coughing, chest pain, breathlessness, fever, lack of appetite, pleural effusion and pneumothorax?" House asked.

"Why no," Janet shrugged, "thanks for the heads up."

"No worries," House smirked, "I am quite good at it."

* * *

House glanced at the clock in his office. 

It was 9:18. Chase and Cameron were already hard as work. Foreman was nowhere to be found.

_Speak of the devil..._

Foreman rushed into the office.

"You're late." House snapped.

Cameron and Chase glanced up from their work.

"I'm really sorry, House," Foreman apologized, "I had a late night last night."

"Here," House threw an object at Foreman.

It was his gameboy.

"What's that for?" Foreman asked, confused.

"I want you to give that to Tim," House shrugged.

"Let me get this straight," Foreman interrupted, "instead of yelling at me about being late, you're giving me _your_ gameboy to give to _my _nephew."

"That's right," House nodded, "and here – have this."

House handed Foreman a card.

"It's the number to one of my med-school buddies – he's one of the best physios in the country. He should be able to help Tim."

"Wow, House, I don't know what to say," Foreman shook his head, "Thank you so much."

"No trouble." House rested his feet on his desk.

"Now, how about we turn that heat up."

* * *

**A/N: Only the Epilogue to go. One more left!**


	11. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE**

**A/N: This story has finally come to a close – enjoy the final chapter. Thanks are at the bottom.

* * *

**

_Dr Gregory House was better than his word. He became as good a friend, as good a master, as good a man as the old city knew. And, to Tiny Time, who did not die, he was a second father. It was said of Greg House that he kept Christmas well. If any man alive possessed the knowledge may that be truly said of us and all of us._

_And so, as Tiny Tim observed:_

_God bless us, everyone._

"The end." Wilson finished.

The children that were listening scampered off.

House stood in the doorway, amused.

"So, are you going for Sainthood, reading to sick kids?" House smirked.

"Very funny," Wilson chuckled.

"Particularly enjoyed the 'revised' version – me as Scrooge, what a surprise."

"Was rather predictable, wasn't it?" Wilson grinned.

"I liked the parts where I insulted Cuddy," House laughed.

"I knew you would," Wilson murmured, "you still coming round for Christmas dinner?"

"For a chance to kick all your asses in 'Medical Terms'? Hell yeah!"

"I'll see you then." Wilson answered, walking down the hall.

"Hey Wilson!" House called out.

His friend spun around.

"Make sure the turkey's not dry this year."

The End

* * *

**A/N: Yes, the end. I'd like to thank the following for their kind and motivating reviews:**

**Kap0w (first reviewer), Summerdazesooz, Strychnine smile, Jakkaru, boredandhomealone, manderleythewicked, livetoeat06, edge-of-reality, runs with scissors, Crimson The Hyper, BookwormKiwi, Autopsy Gremlin, Robin Rainyday, aishah, GallopGirl, QT Roo, Emily, Reius Devirix, Rakel-101, penguinlover, The Nth Degree, Classical Sorrow, Jason, Rebecca, nera, March Hare, Dr.ML, AineMorrigan, Kesiki no Tenshi, Asteria, mishy-mo, Renify, MisterMsValentina, lil bishi hunter, graybaby1, KylaRyan, Quandtuniverse, Bella Sorcerer, Bubble1970, Cadenza Cavatina, KittenRebecca, M J Azilem, Mollisk, Sairra, torzi-bom, random-supernatural-fan, AquilaLorelei.**

**And thank you to anyone else who read, or reviewed, but I missed. **

**I really hope you enjoyed this and Happy New Year.**

**CSIMel**


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